MurderVictim
Marlowe
Noctis
autumoon
Tyler Night
Lewascan2D’Angelo maintained his rather casual pace as Daxius spoke, the ever present smirk visible from under the cowl of his cloak. Even as Daxius sprinted D’Angelo maintained his clam breathing, he wouldn’t allow himself to be pulled into the creature’s game and he was determined to set the tempo for this fight.
“Oh yea, such an improvement. From one nature loving freak to one covered in fur.”
His short sword came up and across his body one way to slap the first dagger out of the air. The second however, grazed his left arm as he pivoted to avoid it, slicing a clean line across cloak, shirt and skin up near his shoulder.
“Stop that.” He grumbled, not liking at all the speed at which the daggers were thrown.
Still, the next attack with the sword dragging behind, sparks showing clearly in the night, seemed too telegraphed to D’Angelo. He was instantly weary of the attack and kept his focus on the cat-demons free hand, the one that seemed all too willing to pump out high velocity daggers.
As the attack came in D’Angelo dropped low to a knee, burying his short sword in the ground as his opponents rune blade came across to take him out at the legs. Daxius would find that that the smaller sword was more than able to take the impact of the longer weapon.
At the same time the hand that had been resting on a pouch flung out, not with a weapon of the conventional sense, but a handful of finely crushed glass that was aimed in the general direction of Daxius’s face. D’Angelo would try and see if his opponents momentum would carry him through the fine glass, and risk breathing it in and getting it stuck to his eyes where it could do serious damage. Or, would he close his eyes or turn his head and risk taking his eyes off the dangerous assassin? Or, perhaps something completely different.
“Oh yea, such an improvement. From one nature loving freak to one covered in fur.”
His short sword came up and across his body one way to slap the first dagger out of the air. The second however, grazed his left arm as he pivoted to avoid it, slicing a clean line across cloak, shirt and skin up near his shoulder.
“Stop that.” He grumbled, not liking at all the speed at which the daggers were thrown.
Still, the next attack with the sword dragging behind, sparks showing clearly in the night, seemed too telegraphed to D’Angelo. He was instantly weary of the attack and kept his focus on the cat-demons free hand, the one that seemed all too willing to pump out high velocity daggers.
As the attack came in D’Angelo dropped low to a knee, burying his short sword in the ground as his opponents rune blade came across to take him out at the legs. Daxius would find that that the smaller sword was more than able to take the impact of the longer weapon.
At the same time the hand that had been resting on a pouch flung out, not with a weapon of the conventional sense, but a handful of finely crushed glass that was aimed in the general direction of Daxius’s face. D’Angelo would try and see if his opponents momentum would carry him through the fine glass, and risk breathing it in and getting it stuck to his eyes where it could do serious damage. Or, would he close his eyes or turn his head and risk taking his eyes off the dangerous assassin? Or, perhaps something completely different.
